A Knight’s Journey, Guided by One Motto
2023 into 2024.
A whirlwind.
A season that felt like ten years compressed into one.
Malaysia was hosting APAAACI again — the big one.
Allergists, immunologists, researchers, world leaders.
Everyone flying into Kuala Lumpur.
The last time we hosted was 2016, when I was handling the scientific program.
This time, somehow, I ended up as chairperson, overseeing the entire congress.
And I remember sitting quietly thinking:
“Okay, Kent… what would you change? What can actually benefit Malaysia?”
Because running a congress is not glamorous.
It’s expensive.
Painfully expensive.
Venue, equipment, manpower, accommodation, flights, meals…
And all the tiny details that somehow become emergencies.
Naturally, fees become high.
Too high for many young doctors and students.
Masuk dah pokai la.
So we negotiated.
And negotiated.
And negotiated some more.
Found funding in places no one expected.
And in the end, we managed something meaningful — 200 complimentary slots for students and doctor trainees.
A small gesture for young minds.
A small seed for Malaysia’s future.
This funding? It wasn’t easy.
We had two weeks.
That was all.
We needed to demonstrate real interest —
Names of young doctors who wanted to come but simply couldn’t afford it.
The fastest way was a targeted call through social media.
There were worries about cost.
I remember saying,
“Don’t worry. I’ll cover it.”
It wasn’t about numbers.
It was about not letting opportunity slip away.
The congress itself?
Honestly, a blur.
Running everywhere.
Smiling.
Fixing.
Welcoming.
Surviving on caffeine and adrenaline.
And then it ended.
“Till we meet again.”
Lights dimmed.
I took a deep breath.
I thought that was that.
But a memory returned as I read this new letter in my hand.
Months after the APAAACI Congress, someone had called the clinic.
My staff said the caller wanted to express appreciation.
The voice said:
“Dr Kent Woo, congratulations on a successful international congress. Thank you for securing educational opportunities for students and trainees. And for all your clinical care and contributions…”
Then something like:
“We are nominating you for…”
—and the rest blurred, whether from static or exhaustion.
I thanked him.
Wished him well.
Moved on.
Seeing patients.
And now…
Here I am.
Holding a letter inviting me to the Negeri Sembilan Palace on January 14, 2026.
I had to sit down.
Because this — this journey — didn’t start yesterday.
I graduated from Thomas Jefferson University.
Trained in Internal Medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School.
Served as Chief Resident.
Then Assistant Professor, helping build the academic hospitalist program in Virginia.
Later, I trained in Allergy & Immunology at Louisiana State University.
Received “Most Outstanding Fellow.”
And in 2008, something happened that stayed with me forever —
I was inducted into Alpha Omega Alpha (AΩA).
Its motto:
“Be worthy to serve the suffering.”
Simple.
Clear.
Humbling.
I hold onto that line every day.
It shapes how I treat patients.
How I teach.
How I lead.
How I run events like APAAACI.
You don’t need a title to serve.
You just need to be worthy of the trust someone places in you when they walk into your clinic — scared, itchy, swollen, breathless — hoping you can help.
Maybe that’s why this nomination feels surreal.
Over the years, I picked up a Diploma in Clinical Dermatology (with Distinction) from Queen Mary University of London.
Was made Honorary Professor and Honorary Fellow of MSAI in 2025.
Served the Malaysian Society of Allergy and Immunology since 2012 — President from 2022 to 2024.
Wrote and co-authored guidelines and consensus papers for Malaysia and the region.
Continued my involvement with APAAACI.
Continued teaching.
Continued caring for patients at Gleneagles KL.
Continued quietly helping those who couldn’t afford treatment.
None of this was done for recognition.
Ever.
It was simply the work that needed to be done.
The work I believed in.
The work AOA reminded me to stay worthy of.
So sitting here, holding this letter…
I feel grateful.
Humbled.
A little stunned.
I never expected to be conferred Darjah Setia Bakti Negeri Sembilan which carries the Title of Dato.
I never chased it.
I certainly didn’t plan my life around titles.
I only hope I was worthy of the trust placed in me.
If anything, This Honor belongs to Everyone who Walked Beside Me — teachers, colleagues, patients, students, family, friends, and the young doctors who continue to inspire me.
On January 14, 2026, I walk into the Negeri Sembilan Palace with a full heart.
Thankful.
Grounded.
And after, still guided by the same simple promise:
Be worthy to serve the suffering
